Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Checking In Belatedly

I know your thoughts, like mine, have been with Boston and the runners, with the lost and the bereft. It's so sad in every way. I cried watching the celebration after they captured the surviving suspect: I understand the relief, of course, but my God--he's just a kid. It's beyond imagining, that kind of radical alienation from the most basic framework of compassion and fellowship. And then, of course, you must think of all the people, all around the world, who live with violence woven into the fabric of their every day. We ourselves are bodily unharmed and--thank you for thinking to ask--Michael was not running.

I am posting a meal idea later today. Just checking in for right now, sending love.

20 comments:

As a pastor, I see this child and pray..as a mother I see this child and grieve..as an American I see this child and want justice..it is hard to wrap my mind around the violence, the pictures, the death, and yet we are faced with the reminder every day..there is no cure for evil, but there is healing..we will do that together, yes?

Thank you for your good work as a pastor in times of need like this. It is truly the most vital service anyone can provide, giving us all hope. And Catherine, thank you for always bringing your light into our lives. I wish peace for you and your family. Living in Colorado, I have seen our community go through two of the worst shootings in our country. It shakes your very sense of reality. I find myself trying not to let the fear win, ever. But with two small children, it is a challenge to not succumb to wanting to hide them away from the world. I never want them to see the world through anything but innocent eyes. I guess I wish the same for myself.

My reaction was the same -- just a kid! To see his utter detachment (the tweets, the behavior) is mystifying. I suppose we must just go on weaving "compassion and fellowship", to perhaps negate the effect of the violence that's already in the warp and weft for so many...

I was driving in my car here in western Massachusetts last Friday, wanting to be home with my own children, and I found myself thinking of the suspect, on the run, hiding, possibly injured, and I realized that I was crying. I was crying because I was thinking how frightened he must have been, and in such pain, and alone. Why? Why was I crying for him, after what he'd done, I thought. And then I realized why: he's just a child, really; he's someone's child, still; and I am a mother. We want to protect not just our own children, but oftentimes the others, as well. The misguided, lonely, lost children of others, who are, still, mothers, like us.

Yes! Me, too, exactly, except not driving in MA, but all the way away in Minnesota. But when I expressed my thoughts at a neighborhood gathering that night, I thought *I* was going to be lynched for expressing sadness. I want that boy to be punished to the full extent of the law, but it is terribly, terribly sad. For everyone. Did we, as a society, fail him?

Yes. Yes. Me too! So glad to hear others felt this way. I just keeping thinking his brother must have beat him/coerced him into this awful act....after his parents left him at age 17 in America with only his brother to "raise" him.

Catherine, I can't tell you how much I appreciated reading your post this morning. I have felt so discouraged by the amount of hatred aimed at these boys. Of course what they did was unbelievably hideous and should be condemned, but I never think it's a good idea to pick and choose for whom you have compassion. Thank you for showing yours.

I feel emotionally whipsawed. I too thought how terrifying it must be to see your older brother die, to be hurt and on the run and so very young. BUT, then I saw the picture of sweet little Martin standing on crossbar of the aluminum barricade so he could see the race, with the man in the white hat walking away behind him, leaving behind a bomb that would kill that sweet little boy, and my heart broke into a million pieces. To intentionally hurt innocent people is so vile, so evil, so without heart, that I questioned whether the emotions I assigned to him (caring for his brother, fear, worry) would even exist - that perhaps my thoughts about how he might feel were simply invalid - based in a framework that simply would never encompass a person who would take the actions to place a bomb in a crowd of innocent people. I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know. I am sad. I am angry. More than anything, I cannot believe the LOSS, right up to, and including the loss of what seemed to be a very promising future for that young man.

I saw the "celebration" more as a community thankful for the police getting a guy off the streets so they can feel safe in their neighborhood again. I saw it as a show of support and appreciation for the police catching a guy who hurt so many. I was glad they were able to take him alive. Maybe we can get some answers to our questions.

Thank you. This mirrors the inner dialogue that I have been having. I even asked my husband if I was wrong to feel sad for this kid. I don't think that it lessens my grief and pain for those who died or were so horribly injured. If we are to continue as a society, we must learn to show compassion and understanding to all. It is much easier to say than do. That said, this does not mean that I don't think what he did was right or that he shouldn't be appropriately punished. Ultimately, I just keep going back to "I remember when I was 19 and so easily swayed."

I posted an earlier reply, but have a bit more to say in light of many other responses. Yes, I am sad for this kid, but I think for me, the sadness is more about the fact, brought to light in Catherine's post, that there are likely so many more of "him" out there! So many kids raised in violence around the world, and how can their psyche not be affected? Without intervention to see these things, how can they grow compassion, empathy or "fellowship"? That is sad -- and very frightening to me.